


feel the black reaching out

by elizabethelizabeth



Series: No Power in the Verse [1]
Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Firefly Fusion, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Alternate Universe - Science Fiction, Character Introductions, Episode: s01e01 Serenity, Gen, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-08
Updated: 2020-12-08
Packaged: 2021-03-10 03:48:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,190
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27947819
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elizabethelizabeth/pseuds/elizabethelizabeth
Summary: "Crowley, we've got a problem." Whendidn'tCrowley have a problem?An obsolete vessel, a payload, and a small decision
Relationships: Minor or Background Relationship(s), background Beelzebub/Dagon
Series: No Power in the Verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2046740
Comments: 11
Kudos: 14





	feel the black reaching out

**Author's Note:**

> beta read by the wonderful dragon_with_a_teacup!

"Crowley, we've got a problem."

When _didn't_ Crowley have a problem?

That was beside the point, though.

"Can the problem be ignored while I'm handling very warm and very dangerous machinery?"

Dagon was quiet, but not mercifully. "Yes?" Not quite the answer Crowley was looking for, truth be told. He couldn't see Dagon's face, her being back on the ship and all, but knew doubtlessly that she was grinning nervously.

Crowley glanced at Beez, who was focused more intently than Crowley could ever dream of focusing, but they did have a ghost of a smile regardless. They were allowed, Crowley surmised, to still be enchanted by Dagon's charms, for lack of a better term.

With no small amount of irritation, Crowley groaned. "Talk to me, Dagon. Slowly. Enunciate. I'd rather not blast this wreck and myself in the process."

Crowley continued to apply explosive adhesive to the wreckage of what had previously been a Turpin 500, in the shape of a roughly human-sized hole, as Dagon continued over the radio. "Got something on the radar. Moving fast enough to be...a problem."

Crowley froze, looked at Beez, replied to Dagon. "How long have we got?"

Another merciless pause. "An hour?"

"I'd like you to be sure."

"...an hour?" she repeated, no more sure than the first time.

"That's still too unsure for my tastes, Dagon." Crowley sighed. "Do we have time to get this payload on the ship?"

"If it's not tagged, I'd say yes."

That was a level of surety Crowley could handle. The likelihood of the foodstuff being tagged on a vessel this old was slim to none. He always kept a close eye on his odds. "Keep the engines hot. I want to make a quick getaway if worse comes to."

"But they'll see—"

"Better they see us than catch us. I'm not inclined to be on Heaven's doorstep any time soon." And that was true for all of them involved. "Make sure Newt's on call. _Don't_ , for the love of everything unholy, wake up Hastur. He'll throw a hissy fit and act all high and mighty about this job going wrong, and I don't want to deal with his sass."

"You done ranting about Hastur, or do you need me to take over?" Beez piped up, still infuriatingly on task. 

"Roger, captain," Dagon said before Crowley could get a word in edgewise.

Time-space was tricky.

Spend too long on a ship in the black and a person's circadian rhythm ceases to function normally, if it functioned at all. In the histories of Earth-That-Was, the timekeepers and calendars of cultures seemed monumental, but Crowley couldn't understand them anymore. Track the sun, the light shifted, an hour passed. An hour was only an hour because of the way a shadow moved. Heliocentrists of old tracked a singular planet’s movement, and timekeeping became standard. 

The black had no such parameters. An hour was only an hour because it was only an hour because someone, somewhere, decided it was an hour.

An hour didn't last longer when there was no sun, but Crowley wished it were so. Time only existed in space because humans decided to make it their highway, circumnavigable roads that led to destinations and nowhere simultaneously. 

Crowley breached the hull of the Turpin 500, and it was accompanied by a release of dusty air pressure. As the particles floated and disappeared into the ether, Crowley wondered if it made any sound.

Beez peered inside. They grinned fully. "Untagged," said more to Dagon than to Crowley. 

"I'll bring her around." Crowley could hear the gears and shifts and exhaust of the Bentley as Dagon did just that. The sound still existed, even if Crowley heard it secondhand. Time still existed, even if the sun of his ancestors had burned out. 

Crowley rolled his shoulders and focused before Beez could notice the daydreaming. "Move fast. The sooner we get out of here, the better I'll feel."

The age of the ship was even more obvious from the inside, tech and design both obsolete. Crowley remembered a news transmission going around, years ago, about how Turpins kept breaking down, how inefficient they were for travel despite the obscene amounts of marketing saying otherwise. No wonder the occupants of this ship had left in a hurry. Good for Crowley, at any rate, with the number of goods left aboard.

They got the cargo on the ship in record time (more time, there was always time, a fucking eternal countdown of sunless minds). Door and hatch closed, everyone present and accounted for, Dagon finally maneuvered them away from the wreckage. Still in the suit, helmet held in his grip, Crowley made his way to the helm. "Talk to me."

Dagon hunched over the radar and kept a loose grip on the steer. She was nervous, but not worried. Yet. "Definitely Heaven. Looks like an Archangel."

Crowley cursed in an amalgamation of multiple languages. " _What_ are they doing this far out?"

"Boss, if I knew, I'd tell you." Dagon flipped a switch above her head. 

A clamber of boots on metal signified Beez's entrance, shed of their suit. They leaned over Dagon's shoulder to look at the radar. "Sky's getting smaller every day," they said sagely if a little pessimistically.

"Not if I can help it." The helm felt hotter than the engine room in the damn suit, and Crowley began to unsuccessfully shed it. "Options?"

"If we go into warp now they have a chance of pinging us."

"And?"

Dagon paused; the second option must not be ideal. "We could wait them out. Turn off everything and hide out in the Turpin's wreckage. They might not look into it."

Crowley and Beez caught each other's eyes over Dagon's head, still bent studiously towards a radar that was making ominous sounds of something moving closer. It sounded, to Crowley, a little too close to a countdown. "Beez?"

They looked out, past the helm and to the endless black. "It's your call, captain."

The title always sounded a little different when Beez said it. A loaded word, historied and deliberate. 

Crowley thought about it, then pressed a button above Dagon's head. "Newt?"

From the intercom, a worried voice originated from the bellows, but it wasn't too odd considering Newt always sounded on the brink of a breakdown. "Captain?"

"Is my ship flight ready?"

"Well, she could really use a tune-up on those couplers. I told you when we were last planet-side that we needed—"

"Newt."

There was an ominous crash. It was not accompanied by an alarm sounding or the smell of burning oil, so it must have been a customary sound. Crowley had learned the intricacies of how Newt and the Bentley worked together, however nonsensical it was. 

"Yes. Fired up and ready when you are."

Crowley nodded. "Get us out of here, Dagon."

The countdown of the radar didn't stop until they were in the next star system over, but the sound continued to reverberate in Crowley's skull for the next hour and the next day and the next year and the next hour and the next minute and the next second.

**Author's Note:**

> well hello! welcome to part one of my Good Omens/Firefly fusion! I've been ruminating on this for a few months now, and decided to make it a series rather than one long fic. all fics will be able to be read separately from each other and have their own arcs and whatnot. writing stuff, you know how it is. I'm really, _really_ proper excited for this AU and kinda just want to talk about it all the time!!!
> 
> I'm on tumblr as elizabethelizabethh if you want to yell about good omens


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